Sick Little Pieces
by Munku-JGSPTV
Summary: Draco is on the escape from prison to freedom, but must save Harry Potter's life to keep his own. [Excerpts from a major fic I'm working on.]
1. Chapter One

Teasers of what's to come…

A/N These are short(end versions of) scenes from my upcoming H/D fic. I felt like I should post something, especially for my friends to see that I have been doing more work on it that I had shown them. I constantly ask them for details to help me… So – here's thank ye to them, I hope you enjoy. I'll probably work on the story entirely a lot more, have most of it fully edited before I post a first finished chapter. Sorry, I want it to be good ^_^ Give me your thoughts.

*

The second flash of lightning was what woke Harry. Turning out of bed, he groggily made his way to the window. Thunder rumbled close by as he tried to see through the grey, muggy darkness. There were torrents of water coming down against the window, and it soon became plain to Harry that they would not be working in the garden today.

He stepped out into the hallway, where he heard feet pattering in his direction. Soon Draco's legs and the rest of his body appeared, white-blonde locks drenched.

"Oh. So you've decided to wake up now," Malfoy sneered.

"Uhh.. Have you been running outside trying to trim that rose bush?"

Draco gritted his teeth. "Save it, Potter. Have you taken notice of this storm, Scarhead?" he ignored the expression on Harry's face and continued. "Did you also realise that you left the windows open yesterday?"

Harry blanched. He was right. But Draco had forgotten too… It was probably flodding down the other end of the hall by now. Those windows were huge, and the storm didn't seem like it would end any time soon.

"Right."

"You go down that way and shut every window in the hall."

"Couldn't we just use impervious?"

Draco paused. "I thought spending all that time around Granger would at least help your brain soak up some knowledge. You can't perform impervious with the rain hitting the windows as heavy as this. And anyway, we'd need to spell the outside of the house. Don't you think it's a bit late for that? Unless you'd like to volunteer to get completely soaked, of course."

Harry just walked away down the hall, not letting Draco feel like he'd won anything.

He was probably smirking nonetheless.

*

If felt… strange to be walking around in the ministry building. He hadn't been here since the brief attack on the upper floors, and things had changed to a certain degree. But that's what he was here for. To erase any remnants of his father's presence. 

*

"You'd have to be blind not to notice," Hermione comment as Harry and Draco headed towards them.

"Notice what?" The Boy Who Lived quipped. He just voiced the question Ron had been wanting an answer to.

"Come on," she said quickly. "Let's go to Flourish and Blotts. After that Malfoy can treat us to shakes and ice cream."

Harry laughed at the face Draco was pulling at the thought of buying them all sweet food of a sloppy semi-frozen substance, as though he were the parent and Ron, Hermione and Harry were the children.

"I'll have chocolate, thanks."

*

Draco stopped. Neville Longbottom was standing at the other end of the corridor.

There was another dark form beside him, clinging to Neville's arm and shoulder.

"This way, Dad. Back to your room."  If Mr Longbottom had made a response, Draco hadn't been able to see. He stayed were he was, but moved away quickly when he realised he had just been standing still watching. Too late. Neville recognised him. His small eyes widened, and he stopped helping his father to shuffle back to the ward.

"Malfoy?" The voice was unsure.

Draco didn't reply. He whipped around and walked away.

*

When Neville stepped out of St. Mungo's, he let out a breath. Narcissa Malfoy: recently admitted. Malfoy's mother was _mad_.

*

Take off your glasses, Potter."

Harry blinked. What?

"Er…Why?"

"And we'll need to cover up that scar too. The ministry officials would have told these bloody Muggles what we look like," he replied smoothly, walking quickly and holding some of their recovered goods.

Harry grumbled in return. A thought hit him, making him grin wickedly.

"Malfoy… You'll need to dye your hair."

"What?!" Draco immediately flung a hand towards his hair, a horrified expression displaying itself clearly across his features.

"Well, if they've put these muggles on the lookout for us, then they're sure to notive your hair." Harry's grin widened.

"I should have paid more attention to those witch teen magazines Parvati and Lavender had… Bet there's a helpful little spell in there to alter hair colour..."

"I. Will. not. do. _anything_ to.my.hair!"

Harry shrugged, secretly plotting to invent a charm that would make the ferret's hair a nice shade of sickly green. Or Gryffindor colours… Pity Malfoy always –

"Move it, Potter. Now."

*

Review? This was supposed to be kind of fun to read. What do you think?

Munku-JGSPTV ^_^


	2. Chapter Two

A/N: A second posting of What's To Come for this fic. A review or two would be nice, thank you. If you review mine, I am most likely to review yours (unless it's a fandom I don't know). There's less humour in these parts, and a few more hintings towards the real plot. Take a look -  
  
*  
  
Harry promptly stood, still clutching his head, a finger pressed hard against his scar. He didn't take much notice of his surroundings as he stepped out of the room and walked down a short corridor, still in pain. He paused, trying to remember. A dementor had been about to kiss his soul away, Harry recalled faintly, when –  
  
Sounds from the next room invaded his thoughts. A steady chop-chop-sliss noise. He tensed, feeling around in his pocket for his wand, but not finding anything except the wrapper for the sherbet lemon he had eaten yesterday.  
  
Harry cautiously walked through the open doorway nearest to him. A kitchen. A pale blonde young man was muttering and gripping his finger with the other hand while a knife sat upon a cutting board next to some vegetables.  
  
Then man looked up, first a frown, then a scowl crossing his face.  
  
"Oh, you've decided to join the living after all."  
  
Then it hit Harry.  
  
Draco Malfoy had saved his life.  
  
*  
  
"What, Potter, fancy yourself a better gardener than me?" He was about to reply when the Slytherin continued, not giving Harry a chance to reply with a clever retort.  
  
"Think there's any tools that might help us in that shed around the back?"  
  
Harry squinted at the bright skyline. It looked like something was heading in their general direction. A plane, perhaps.  
  
"We have a shed out the back?" he responded. Draco scoffed, starting to make his way around the overgrown garden to the side of the house.  
  
"Yeah, it's got vines creeping around everywhere, though..."  
  
The spot near the horizon was getting bigger. It wasn't black after all. White. White with wings. Flapping wings.  
  
"Potter," came Draco's voice, distant. "Are you coming or what?"  
  
"Hedwig!"  
  
*  
  
"Stun him, quick," one of the Aurors told his counterpart. He whipped out his wand and did so.  
  
"You sure that's wise? Shouldn't someone fetch a Healer, rather than shoving him back in his cell?" someone muttered behind Harry. He turned to see who it was: a woman with brown hair holding on tightly to a handbag, lips pursed and a lined, polite face.  
  
"Come, Orla..." said a man at her side, wrapping an arm around her waste and leading her away.  
  
Harry agreed with the woman. Or he would have, if he still didn't believe that Malfoy deserved a fate such as this.  
  
"Let's leave," Remus said softly at Harry's right ear.  
  
The Aurors looked only a few years older than Harry himself. But they clearly hadn't been in court before to witness a trial with something like this.  
  
*  
  
"Can you just hold it still for a sec?"  
  
"Sure, Colin. D'you want me to keep holding the sign?"  
  
"Umm..." Colin Creevy checked through the lens of his camera. "Yeah, that'd be good, thanks."  
  
Draco groaned inwardly. How long was this going to take? If it was just himself, he would have been pampered and prepared in his own precious time so he could look perfect, and everything would have turned out just fine, but Longbottom had been frustrating over his hair and the Creevy kid hadn't come on time either. "Hurry up, Longbottom."  
  
Neville sighed in return, with "I always look bad in these sorts of photos."  
  
Draco was about to reply that he obviously looked bad in all sorts of photos, because presentable wasn't one of his special qualities, but as owner, he thought it wouldn't be a good image if his photographic self was pummelling his employee into the ground.  
  
No, it wouldn't be good for his image at all.  
  
*  
  
He had kept the house elves for a week before throwing them a bunch of his mum's old stockings. He just wanted the Manor cleared up a little bit before he'd really start getting things in order.  
  
She had been left alone for so long, and had ordered (or so Draco had discerned from bits of her loud ramblings) the house elves to keep the cellars downstairs clean.  
  
She was probably still waiting for her husband to come home. 


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: This might/will probably be the last chapter of snippets I'll post before I write the entire thing and put it up. Keep in mind these are bits of the story, not necessarily making sense, and certainly not in order. Reviews are always nice.

"Will you quit that?" Malfoy snapped irritably.

"What?"

"Staring at me…" Harry straightened up, not realising what he had been doing.

"I hate it when my hair gets wet," Draco said, patting down the tendrils of dripping hair on his forehead lovingly. Harry rolled his eyes.

"So what are we going to do now? Play chess, exploding snap… Any other rainy weather games in mind?"

"I intend to light myself some warmth in that fire place and then fall asleep rather comfortably," Draco replied, somewhat miffed that Harry would suggest they play a game like exploding snap together. "Hopefully when I wake up I won't be _here_ any longer."

Harry frowned. 'Here' obviously meant 'in this, your company'.

She kissed first Harry, then Draco on the cheek as if they were her most mischievous children, and gave a 'behave' look as she walked out the door.

"See you."

"Yeah, bye."

Draco said nothing, just staring after her. Harry wondered if it was just so their gazes didn't meet. His own eyes trailed to the floor

He hadn't thought that – no. He hadn't thought, full stop. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Harry felt the other man's robes brush past him as Draco left.

"Sorry," he muttered, alone once more.

"Harry, I didn't really want to say anything – Ron isn't even supposed to know – but I thought you might be able to help. Ginny remembered, well, I did too, but – for you, a boggart takes on the form of… A dementor. Which has been exactly our problem for _months_."

Harry waited to see where she was going with this.

"Now, we're not sure if it will work or anything, but Gilbert has agreed with our suggestion… Until we know what Voldemort's Dark spell consisted of, we'd like your help in trying to invent another one," she finished, taking a breath at last.

"M-my help?"

Hermione shook her head at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Of _course_ we want your help, Harry. Need it, more likely. Would you be able to meet me at the Burrow in the morning tomorrow? That way we could floo together."

"Er, sure."

Hermione smiled, the stress on her face becoming less evident.

"Excellent."

Harry flipped over what appeared to be a normal muggle postcard.

_I'm in London – been spending time with Olympe in France. _

_Would you like to come visit? Send your reply back to me or see Hermione – I think she's got the address of where I'm staying too. Haven't had a chance to move back into Hogwarts yet._

_I'm not sure how long I'll be staying in England._

_Hope Hedwig got to you all right. See you soon?_

_Hagrid_

He read it a second time, a smile lighting across his face. Hagrid was finally back!

"You want to go?" Draco asked impassively. Harry nodded.

Draco met his gaze – they both knew there were risks – Harry could always tell the Ministry his location, put him back in prison.

In that moment, Harry wasn't exactly sure what, but Draco seemed to fin the answer to something.

"I trust you," he said simply, and turned back to the rusted garden shed door.

Review? Please?


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